Newcomer
by phalanxif0r
Summary: Meet Maria, a newcomer in the crazy place that is Mckinley High. Now meet Santana, head-bitch-in-charge, and observe how the two get on.
1. Chapter 1 - Santana

[SANTANA POV]

Our reputation from our two previous years at McKinley High was not forgotten over the summer, and we resumed our places as head bitches in charge. A few things were different; one being that coach Sylvester had made me head cheerleader, co-captains with Quinn, and Q had taken it better than I thought she would. She, Brittany and I strode down the hallway, smirking at the frightened students who averted their eyes and all but stuck themselves to their lockers as we passed. Our lockers were in different places this year though, Quinn and Britt were within ten feet of each other, and mine was down the other length of the hallway. They broke off after squeezing pinkies with me and I continued down alone. The students had the same reaction to me; I held my head high and had a death glare for anyone willing to meet my eyes. I had worked hard to get this badass, bitchy as hell reputation, and other people would do damn well to respect it.

The crowds parted as usual, and I walked forward with a cocky smirk, except… My stride slowed as I saw a girl walking towards me, not moving aside. She was distracted, but it wasn't an excuse to potentially get in my way. I didn't recognise her, so I realised she mustn't be aware of the hierarchy system here. That was strange; most schools in America were like McKinley, except that gay-ass stuck-up Dalton academy. The girl was walking straight in my direction, and I wasn't about to move to let someone pass. Let her see what she got if she walked into me. I took a moment to rake my narrowed eyes over her. She was my height, if not slightly shorter, with dark hair that fell in waves around her face. I took a guess and assumed she was Hispanic. She had earphones in and was reading as she walked; there was a slip of paper tucked over a page which she seemed to be ignoring. She was some two feet away from me when she finally noticed and her head snapped up and she met my eyes with a startled look. She dropped my gaze almost immediately and mumbled a quick apology, my eyes narrowing at the accent. The two syllables she had said to me weren't enough to be sure of where she was from.

Out of the corner of my eyes, I noticed the crowd watching me expectantly, seeing how I'd react to the girl. I didn't want to risk my fierce reputation on the first day, but for some reason I didn't feel like yelling at the girl in front of everyone, she was obviously new and I didn't want to push her to the bottom of the food chain right away. I turned to my locker and glanced down the hallway where the girl was putting her book away, looking around her with a very confused expression. I turned back to my books, snorting in disbelief at my softness. Why should I give a shit about the new girl? I risked another look in her direction, I could barely see her amongst the crowd that had absorbed her, but I could tell that she was trying to ask someone for help, but people were just barging into her. I shifted on my feet so I could see her better, and looked at the frustration on her face. After a particularly hard shove, she whirled round and elbowed the guy beneath the shoulder blades. I snorted and shouldered my bag, deciding that a girl with a temper like that would be fun to fuck with; I just needed to help her first.

As usual, the crowd flew apart as I made my way back up the hall, except, once again, the new girl. She watched me coming with a wary look, but didn't move. I stopped myself in front of her and crossed my arms across my chest. "Lost, are we?" I sneered, sounding meaner that I intended. She looked at the piece of paper in her hands, a hint of anger in her voice.

"Not lost, as such. I just can't find my bloody locker…"

I laughed as I pinpointed the accent.

"You're British?" I mused as I took the paper from her hands. I rolled my eyes as I identified her locker as the one next to mine.

"Brazilian, actually, I've just lived in England since I was three."

"Your name is Spanish though?"

She looked at me with narrowed eyes and I waved the piece of paper in explanation. The words on the page informed me that her name was Maria Alfaro. I steered her to her locker, and leaned against my own. "This," I said, tapping the locker, "is mine. So I guess I'll be seeing you a lot this year." I smiled in what could be taken as a flirty way, had I been gay, which I wasn't. I was sleeping with Puck, for god's sake. I turned round, twirled my cheerio ponytail and headed away from the lockers for my first class.

"Wait, I never got your name?" I heard behind me.

"You'll find out at some point." I called back without turning round.


	2. Chapter 2 - Maria

[MARIA POV]

I smiled and turned to my locker. From what I could see, other students had already put photos and notes up in theirs, and I made my mind up to do the same. I scribbled out the lessons I had today into my notebook and tacked up the timetable on the inside of my locker. I slammed the door shut, making sure that I had memorised the combination written on the slip of paper, and walked in the direction that the other girl had walked in. She was obviously popular, and people didn't seem to be used to seeing her be nice to others, judging by the way that people were already looking at me differently, giving me a little space. I wrapped my arms around my books and held them to my chest self-consciously; making sure that only the tips of my fingers were showing from the too-long sleeves of my black Mario hoodie. I was starting to see the advantages of having uniform back in England. I had spent an hour in my bedroom, wrapped in a towel, panicking about what to wear. I settled eventually on some nice jeans, black doc Martens, a tight white t-shirt with the Legend of Zelda triforce printed in black on the front and my reliable black Mario hoodie. I almost envied the Cheerios and the jocks, who came to school in their respective uniforms; and the cheerleading ones were hot… those skirts couldn't be legal.

The crowds were already starting to thin, the bell had rung a few minutes ago, and I was trying to find the Spanish classroom without having to ask for help. I found it eventually, cringing inwardly as everyone's eyes swivelled to look at me. If I blushed, I would have done so, but ethnic people don't really blush, so my ears just got really hot and I mumbled an apology in the direction of the whiteboard. I had already gathered that appearance and body language was everything at this school, so I swallowed my embarrassment and lifted my chin confidently. I felt a pang in my chest when I met the guarded eyes of the other Latina, the one whose name I didn't know. I was distracted by the voice of the teacher.

"Ah yes don't worry. Class, this is Maria, she's joining us all the way from England to spend the year here at McKinley-"

"Why would you come _here_ from _England_?" a smooth voice interrupted. My heart skipped a beat when I recognised it as the girl from earlier. Bloody hell, what was happening to me?

"Santana, that's enough," My eyes widened as the teacher, who I remembered from the schedule to be called Mr Schuester, called out the Latina. Santana, was it? "Now Maria, just take a seat and I'll get you a book in a minute."

I swallowed nervously and looked around. The desks were for two people, and the only extra spaces were next to Santana and a guy who I didn't know. They were near each other, so I could walk towards them without making a decision. Mr Schuester turned back to the whiteboard, and I eyed the class apprehensively. As I neared the guy's table, he reached over and grabbed my wrist.

"Hey baby, nice t-shirt, I'd like to see what's behind those triangles." He smirked. Instantly my decision was made, but I wasn't going to let him get away with this. I saw Santana stiffen in the corner of my eye, but I assumed she wouldn't intervene. I took this as a test. I turned slowly on the balls of my feet, and the guy was already raising his eyebrows at his mates. I shook my wrist free, and looked at him with a malevolent glare, watching his cocky grin waver.

"Firstly, my name is Maria, I'd thank you to call me that. Secondly, it's a triforce. And thirdly, well, I'd like to cordially invite you to go fuck yourself. Preferably sideways, and with a chainsaw." I finished with a big fake smile, spun on my heels and dumped my stuff on the desk next to Santana. "Hope you don't mind if I sit…" I muttered, looking at the desk.

"Are you kidding? That was awesome. That's Rick, the captain of the hockey team. He thinks he's so big, but he's actually just a pussy."

"I gathered, and his chat up lines are shit. How can you _not_ know what a triforce is?"

Santana laughed at the mock horror in my voice, and I revelled at the sound. I reverted my attention back to the teacher who was trying to get the class to settle down. He walked over and put a text book in front of me. I nodded my thanks and began to flip through it when he began talking to the class. "This shit is easy, I can figure most of it out from Portuguese," I muttered, "and this guy really can't speak Spanish, he's meant to be our teacher?" Santana snorted and rolled her eyes.

"I know, right? I'm only here for the easy credit, I'm fluent, but it doesn't stop annoying the shit out of me. He knows fuck all."

I looked at her in awe; Spanish was such a sexy language. If it was possible, she had just become even more attractive. I decided to try my luck, seeing as she was being nice to me.

"Spanish comes easier to me because I speak Portuguese, but I'd still like to improve… maybe you could help me?" I bit my lip hopefully.

"Sure thing, it's a date. Give me your address and I'll pick you up after cheerios practice."

My ears burned at her choice of words, and her forwardness.

"I, uh, I'm staying at Sam Evans' house, I don't know if you know where that is?" Santana's eyebrows shot up.

"I do know, he and I dated last year. He didn't really help you much this morning though." My breath caught at this revelation. Aw shit, she batted for another team.

"I, um, he- I mean, he had football practise, he was really sweet about it and drew out a map of the school on a napkin for me, and-" Santana cut me off,

"Is someone hot for Evans?" she drawled, dragging out his name. I shook my head furiously but didn't know how to deny it without telling her outright I wasn't exactly straight.


End file.
